ThighsofJustice



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    “Do you want to know how it feels?”

    Shane let his hand fall back to the couch. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and lifted a brow at Rozanov. “What – holding the Cup? You’ve already made that joke once.”

    “No.” Rozanov’s fingers encircled Shane’s wrist and then he was pulling Shane’s hand between his legs.

     

    Or: Shane tops.

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    18 Mar 2026

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    “You never forget?”

    “No,” Shane breathes out. “No, I never forget.”

    Except Ilya does.

    He forgets his wedding ring.

    And Shane notices.

    Or: Shane gets stuck inside his own head when Ilya forgets his wedding ring.

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    06 Mar 2026

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    “Yes,” Ilya responded. “I love waking up with you. I love holding you in my arms before we have to face the world, I love feeling you warm and sleepy and soft. I love not understanding English but hearing you talk all hoarse and growly. I love it when you have morning breath and I love to convince you it does not matter so you give me kiss me anyways. I love it so much I want to wake up one hour before just to get more time.”

    Or, Ilya is tired of waking up alone while Shane goes on his runs in-season. He decides to do something about it.

    Alternate Title: Ilya's Cuddle Alarm

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    06 Mar 2026

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    “Don’t go,” Ilya manages to choke out, burying his face under Shane’s chin and squeezing his eyes shut. He inhales sharply, pressing his nose deeper into Shane’s throat to breathe in his scent. Right now, it’s Ilya’s body soap, vanilla and spice, masked under salt and skin. He inhales it like it's his own personal supply of air, what he needs to extinguish the burning in his lungs.

    “Ilya,” Shane says, voice urgent, “you’re shaking, I—your breathing’s too fast—” He tries to pull back, needs to see Ilya’s face, needs to see what’s wrong, but Ilya just shakes his head and clings tighter.

    “Please don’t go, Shane,” Ilya whispers, pleading. I’m sorry, please don’t go, don’t go—  

    OR: ilya and shane accidentally recreate the tuna-melt day, and ilya realizes just how much old wounds hurt.

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    06 Mar 2026

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    “Shane…”

    “Who the fuck do you think you’re calling Shane?”

    “Sweetheart,” Ilya corrects, tilting his head down against Shane’s grip on his hair to try to catch his lips. “Please.”

    “I can do everything she can,” Shane says. “But you’ve been a bit too naughty today. I’m tying you up first.”

    “Oh, no,” Ilya says, voice going high and breathy. “That’s terrible.”

    Or - The jealous Shane/pathetic top Ilya fic where Shane makes Ilya beg for it

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    21 Feb 2026